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The Major's Welcome Home

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“Hey.” He sent her a half grin, hoping to dispel the heaviness he’d created in the car. It was suddenly important he not leave her with a negative impression of their short time together. “I’m here on solid ground, ain’t I? Living and breathing. That’s more than a lot of soldiers can say.” Beck took one last look at her pretty face, memorizing her upturned top lip, wishing he could get one last peek at the glowing green eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. Her stubborn chin. It felt wrong to leave her, but what choice did he have? She wouldn’t very well want to date the pathetic, betrayed virgin he’d revealed himself to be. Even if she did, he only had four days at Black Rock before flying back to Georgia. “Goodbye, Kenna.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I must have done something right along the way to earn a ride from such a pretty girl, huh? You take care now.”

A lump stuck in his throat as he heaved his bag through the door and climbed out of the car.

CHAPTER TWO

What the ever-loving fuck just happened?

Kenna stared out the windshield of her car, watching Beck climb the concrete stairs leading to his home for—how long? A day? A month? They hadn’t gotten around to the particulars of his stay. There’d been no real small talk, had there? No, he’d bared it all in the span of ten minutes. Just do not pass go…do not gawk at the magnificent virgin in the passenger’s seat. Because as she watched him move with a mixture of unassuming grace and innate confidence, she could freely admit that yes, he was indeed magnificent. The set of his shoulders, the sturdiness of him said this was a man who moved mountains if he put his mind to it.

No, there was no if about it. He had. Or at least he’d managed to shift something mountain-like inside her in a mere ten minutes. What was she supposed to do with these sucky, yucky feelings? Just watch him disappear into the barracks, effectively letting him get away with it? People—men, especially—usually took one look at her storm-trooper-meets-Cyndi Lauper look and wasted no time lobbing innuendoes at her head like mud-covered softballs. She never cared because those dudes all blurred together in a rippling sea of douchebags. This guy wouldn’t blend. He’d confided in her, and she was heavy with that responsibility. She…liked being heavy with that responsibility, which made no damn sense.

At the top step, Beck turned his head, catching her gaze through the windshield. She would go to her grave thankful that no one was in the car to hear the noise that left her mouth. It went something like ohhhnooowhuu. If he’d managed to keep the entreaty from those intense blue eyes, she might have driven off and endeavored to forget about Major Beck Collier, virgin extraordinaire. But it was there, even if he didn’t realize it. He needed someone. Someone kind and compassionate. That someone definitely wasn’t her, but he sure as shit needed someone, and there was no one else around.

She watched him tug a single key from his canvas bag and open the door. He ducked beneath the doorframe and vanished a second later. Kenna didn’t realize her fingers were digging into the steering wheel until they started to hurt. A sense of urgency danced in her ribcage, fluttering rapidly, slowly climbing into her throat.

“Goddammit.” She swiped a hand through her dark, messy hair before pushing open the driver’s side door and stepping out.

The morning chill had begun to dissipate, the ground soaking up the minimal heat and reflecting it onto her denim-clad legs. This parking lot was usually buzzing by now, but the Sunday silence amplified the sound of her boots clomping along the asphalt, echoing the nervous knocking inside her ribcage. On the second floor, she could see Beck had left the door slightly ajar, almost as if he’d hoped she’d follow. Please let that be the case. Otherwise this move was a smidge on the creepy side. She’d only signed on to be his transport, not his kick-it buddy.

Decision is already made, Kenna. Too bad she didn’t have a clue what she would do once they were in the apartment together. She had no game plan. Or exit strategy. But she knew driving away would feel awful if she didn’t do something, so she followed in his footsteps up the stairs, like one of those cartoon characters floating along on the aroma of fresh-baked apple pie. Or peach pie, as it were.

“Hardy har,” Kenna muttered, stopping outside the door. Since when did she hesitate to do anything? To celebrate her eighteenth birthday, she’d gone streaking at the annual Army/Navy football game. Scaled the local water tower, spray-painting Kenna was here…with beer on the side. As a welder, she worked with fire, for fuck sake. Being nervous around a virgin was flat-out unacceptable. Even if he was Bigfoot-sized. After a full-body shake to loosen her nerves, she pushed the door open. When she saw Beck, her chest squeezed so tight, she swore it was wringing itself dry.


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